


I don't want to be alone anymore

by Izzy15



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Not Canon Compliant, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Timeline What Timeline, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24171046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzy15/pseuds/Izzy15
Summary: Geralt isn't ready to lose his bard.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 208





	1. Ten mortal years

"Leave this place witcher" the angry man spat onto the ground as if the words tasted like dirt in his mouth. The five men behind him giving him the courage to anger the mutant before him.

Geralt grit his teeth and turned to leave, determined not to get into a fight, though it was a fight he could win with both hands tied behind his back. The tavern owner continued to glare at the retreating figure, as he turned to leave.  
Not for the first time, Geralt found himself longing for Jaskier. The smell of ale and fear faded as he got further from the tavern and the angry tavern owner behind him. Despite Jaskier and his constant effort. Many people still feared him. 

Though when the bard was around the pleasant smell of sunshine and honey would shield him from the acidic smell, making Geralt feel safe. He had long since stopped pretending that the feelings the bard invoked were anything but love. He tried to deny it for so long. Pretending his heart didn't beat faster and his palms weren't sweating with each of that bard's glowing smiles.

Geralt's shoulders loosened at the thought of the bard's soft and free touch, his gentle music and clever lyrics. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and focusing on the path to the town's stable. He had apparently overstayed his welcome, the town no longer willing to accept his presence now that the griffin threatening them was gone. At least this time he’d been paid.

Roach nickered gently as the sight of Geralt approaching. He paid the boy minding the stable for the night that Roach had stayed and turned to walk the road out of town. Once at the edge, just before the forest, he climbed into the saddle and began to travel north.

Travel to the next town took three days, Geralt stopping to camp twice along the journey. As the third day's sun began to set, he rode quietly into town.

At the edge of the woods, he dismounted and led Roach by her bridle. He walked towards the tavern, easily identified by the smell of booze. As he got closer, he heard the sound of a lute. He paused in his steps and took a deep breath, his heart skipped a beat as the smell of honey and sunshine sang true, even smothered by the overwhelming scent of the tavern.

Geralt forced himself not to walk faster as he left Roach by the tavern door and walked in. His first glance of Jaskier gave him pause. He hadn't seen him in three months after Geralt left him at a music festival in Oxenfurt.  
He sat in the back of the tavern after ordering a pint, watching Jaskier dance and tease the audience's coin from them. Geralt watched Jaskier, his eyes slowly widening as he realized Jaskier had not changed. Not in the last three months, but in the last fifteen years of their friendship. Not in the last ten years of Geralt's love for him. As Jaskier's grin lit up his face while he performed and Geralt sat in the corner, Geralt saw Jaskier as if it were the first time in a tavern in Posada. As the set came to an end, Jaskier took a bow and collected his coin. The crowd at the tavern joyfully turned back to their drinks and table mates as Jaskier approached the table in the back, his whole form seemingly glowing with the force of his smile.

"Geralt! My friend! It's been far too long." He sat down beside him throwing his arm over Geralt's shoulder. Geralt’s skin burning at the kind contact, the first friendly touch he had felt since he’d seen the bard last.

"Jaskier," His voice was slightly deeper, then even normal as the pain of the last three months faded away. Curiosity burned through him at the thought of fifteen years without a change, but he pushed his questions to the side as he glanced sideways at the blinding smile the bard sent his way as he leaned into the warmth and comfort that was Jaskier.

"You're looking well.” he grumbled, hiding a smile with a sip of the piss-poor ale.

"I cannot say the same, my slightly feral friend, you need a bath. Come, I'll have one drawn for you." He took a deep breath as Jaskier stood chasing the familiar and pleasant smell. Geralt tipped back his pitcher quickly swallowing the remainder of his ale. Standing he followed Jaskier to the door.

"Roach! How I've missed you!" Jaskier approached Roach and began to gently pet her face while she whinnied softly. Geralt fought to keep his face from showing the fondness that rose quickly and warm in his chest. Jaskier led them to a stable, not a five minute walk. Geralt paid extra for an extra helping oats and a few apple slices. As they turned to head to the inn, Jaskier walked beside him, their hands brushing where they swung between the two. For the whole walk Jaskier kept talking of their time apart. With Jaskier here, the harsh whispers of the townsfolk are drowned by Jaskier and his rather jovial, albeit one sided conversation. At the inn he stepped away from Geralt for the first time since his arrival. Geralt tried not to miss the subtle heat of Jaskier's close proximity as he ordered that bath. He returned quickly and lead Geralt to his room

“Now, out of this.” Jaskier said as soon as the door closed behind them. The armor, with Jaskier’s help, was removed and gently put to the side against the wall. Jaskier’s gentle touch flutters from one spot to the next. As the last bit of his armor was removed there was a knock at the door. As the bath arrived, the smell of fear briefly disrupting the calm Geralt had begun to feel. They left as quickly as they had arrived. As the door shut behind them, Geralt took the reming clothing off and got into the tub. He sunk into the water closing his eyes and breathing in and out slowly. The smell of sunshine and honey filled the room helping him feel calm and safe. Jaskier rummaged through his bags before approaching Geralt. They settled into their old rhythm with Jaskier humming quietly as he cleaned Geralt's hair of the days spent in the woods. The soap Jaskier had the faint smell of lavender, gentle and clean. After the White Wolf's long white hair was clean, Jaskier took a wash cloth and gently cleaned the witcher's broad shoulders. As the water cooled Geralt let his mind wander back to Jaskier and his appearance. He wanted to ask the Bard, but he didn’t want to frighten the bard if he was correct.

“Alright my wolf. All clean, up” Geralt stood and began to towel off. Jaskier collected the soap and returned it to the bag. As Jaskier stripped to his small cloth, he began talking again of the musical competition and a beautiful young woman he had charmed that played the lute almost as well as he had.

“Honestly Geralt, she gave me a run or my money. I still won though, I truly cannot be bested.” Jaskier punctuated his sentence with a jaw breaking yawn.

“Sleep my little lark” Geralt rumbled softly as laid beside him on the bed, turning away from the bard with a bright pink blush covering his normally pale skin. He scented the air quietly to see if he had crossed a line with the new nickname, and was pleasantly surprised to smell Jaskier’s contentment and slightly excited scent. Geralt was lulled to sleep with the calm and steady heartbeat of his bard. Knowing Jaskier was safe was all he needed to get a good night’s sleep.


	2. When the end will come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions can be very overwhelming.

Geralt woke up in the early hours of the morning with a quiet grunt, the feeling of warmth almost stifling against his chest. He tried to move his arm only to find it pinned down by his bard, whose face was smushed against his neck. The longer he laid there awake with his precious lark pressed against him, the more in awe he felt. Every inch of Jaskier’s face was still and peaceful, he completely trusted the Witcher that so many others flinched readily away from. The humans he risked his life to protect. He shook his head slightly as he realized his internal monologue had begun to sound like his little lark. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the scent of sunshine to cover him, protect him from the world he had grown accustomed to. 

His thought shifted slowly back to the youthful bard. Now around 30 years old, though he didn’t look a day over 18. Geralt had lived a long time, centuries spent fighting and being feared by most he came across. Jaskier gave his affection openly and freely from the first time they met. Each touch from his lark left an almost painfully warm sensation against the part of him, that his hands had touched. Every time an arm was thrown over his shoulder, and brushing his hair from his eyes, the few hugs the bard had been able to give to him left him reeling, wishing for more without being able to voice his need. Jaskier always knew though, would hug him even though there was no response, holding him close despite the lack of response. 

Thinking back on it, that first hug had been when his love was finally given a name. Every day since then, 8 years ago, he had feared the bard finding out about his love. Jaskier would never love him back. He may not scare the bard but even Jaskier must have limits. He wouldn’t stay close to the disgusting mutant who had fallen in love with him. Mortals and their aging has always been confusing to him, perhaps his age had been consistent and any thought otherwise was simply wishful thinking of a hopelessly in love freak. Yes, that had to be it. There was no other possible explanation. Jaskier would age, like all mortals, he would get old. No longer be able to travel the same way. Would probably say goodbye for good and retire to the coast. Without him, he might meet someone. Perhaps a nice young barmaid to settle down with. Someone who was pretty, Jaskier had always liked pretty things. Someone more deserving of the bard. 

“Geralt, are you crying?” The soft voice of the bard startled him from his revelry. The smell of salt is heavy in the air. Geralt’s free hand flew towards his face roughly wiping the offending tears from his cheeks. The bard’s hand moved to intercept the Witcher's own pulling his wrist aways from his face and gently wiping his cheeks. Rather than pulling away, he leaned into the gentle touch. 

“Geralt, are you okay?” Sleep completely absent from the question. To the great shock of both men in the room, a sob wrestled free from the witcher. Geralt tried to move, turn away from the bard, a pointless effort to conceal the desperation on his face. Jaskier's face and smell both filled with concern against the continued sobs of the normally stoic man. After a few moments, once it became apparent that words would not soon fall out of his bed mate. 

“Okay, okay, no need for words my dear.” The term of endearment only caused Geralt to shake more. Jaskier moved, his arms raising to pull the witcher against him. After some slightly awkward maneuvering Geralt was tucked against Jaskier’s neck, the scent of sunshine and concern filling his senses as he slowly began to calm down. As the tears slowed and came to an eventual stop. Geralt started to tense more and more against the oddly silent bard. 

“I'm sorry,” the first words out of his mouth causing the bard to look down at him with a tight smile. His arms tightened against his will when the bard began to pull away a small fire of panic spreading through every inch of his heart. 

“Not going anywhere, my wolf. It’s okay” The soft words calming the panic with no effort. Jaskiers hands moved and began to brush the white strands of hair, calmly brushing through from top to bottom. “Don't apologize, can you tell me what’s wrong my dear?” Without thinking Geralt’s head shook. 

“No. I can’t.” Words have power. Speaking his fears out loud would bring them to life, would reinforce the fact that soon the bard would age and Geralt would lose his only joy on this miserable path he tread. 

“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what's wrong.” It was all too much. In an abrupt movement, Geralt broke free off the hold that had felt so safe. He walked to the door before aborting his plan to leave and began to pace beside the bed. Roughly running his hands over his face he turned to Jaskier glaring. 

“You can’t help. Even you can not talk your way out of death’s grasp.” A look of confusion crossed the bard's face before it settled into a slightly amused half smile. 

“I think you’ll find that I won’t need to try anytime soon.” Geralt’s mouth was open, eyes bright and full of an angry fire ready to argue. The words died quickly in his throat.

“What does that mean?” The words were meant to be sharp and demanding but there was an obvious undercurrent of desperation. Jaskier stood and moved to stand in front of the now frozen witcher. The absurdity of the situation hit Geralt as both men stood facing each other in their small clothes one close to tears and the other with mirth filled eyes. He shook his head clearing it of any distractions as he waited with bated breath. 

“How long have you known me? I still look like I’m no more than 20. We’ve been traveling together for 15 years Geralt. You’ve never wondered why I’m still the same?” There was a found sort of exasperation in his tone. Geralt shook his head staring into the blue eyes of the man he had come to love. Both men opened their mouths at the same time, the same three words uttered in two different voices, both with the same sincerity. From both men came the phrase.

“I love you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. I am considering making this a series.


	3. New beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the old ways and the beginning of the new.

Time for Jaskier seemed to freeze “You love me?” shock filled the tone of the bard. For so long he had snuffed out any hope of his own feeling being returned. 

Geralt shook free of his stupor. He felt the emotions he was not supposed to have climbing up his chest dusting his cheeks with a gentle pink. 

“I do. I love you Juilian,” the words were gruff, clinging to his throat, fighting their way free to reassure his song bird. Geralt tightened his arms around the smaller man, holding him close to his chest in the middle of the small inn room. 

“I’ve loved you for a few years now. Are you-” he cut his own words off aggressively, not wanting to question the bard, scared that the words he had heard from Jaskier would not be repeated. 

“I love you too, you oblivious oaf.” Any words that the Witcher considered were cut off as warm, soft lips collided with his own. The kiss was soft and heartbreakingly gentle. The very few kisses he had experienced before were rough, shared the throws of passion and never repeated. Jaskiers hand gently cupped the side of his face brushing against the stubble there. 

Jaskier slowly pulled away only far enough to lean his forehead against Geralt’s. He became acutely aware of their proximity and the heat emanating from him. 

“Jaskier, why haven't you changed in all this time.” the words came out as a whisper, breathy, emotional, and everything he wasn’t supposed to be. Jaskier reached up and wiped the remnants of tears from Geralt's cheeks. His smile slowly slipping from the bard's face. Geralt wanted to keep the bard happy, though he needed something, some sort of answer. Jaskier leaned forward gently pressing a kiss onto Geralt’s cheek. Immediately pulling away afterward, stepping out of reach from the Witcher and looking toward the ground. 

Geralt longed to reach out and pull Jaskier back into him and hold him close. His hands dropped after only a moment as the smell of anxiety filled the air. The smell is not as sharp or as heavy as fear, though still unpleasant one the skin of the man he loved. 

“I am not a human, I was so sure you knew.” He bit his lip and looked up quickly before taking a deep breath and looking away. 

“I am Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, though not through blood. My mother was a wood elf, my father a mortal. I am half of each, though truly it only affects me in two ways. I am able to manipulate flowers and plants. I also age much slower than others. I am over one hundred years old.” Jaskier looked down and waited for a response, his head shooting up as a rough but loud laugh filled the room. 

“Why are you laughing?” He asked, ignoring the quickly building relief in his chest. As he watched in awe as the normally stoic Witcher’s head was thrown back. “First crying, now this? What is happening.” A nervous edge on his voice. 

The Witcher took a few steps forward and grabbed his bard by the waist, pulling him against his chest once more. He kissed him till the subtle lingering scent of nervousness was covered in the smell of sunshine and honey filled the air once more. He pulled away to allow them to breath before whispering in dandelion's ear. 

“I have held myself in check for 14 of our 15 years of travel. I love you. From here on out you will be privy to my thoughts as I will be to yours. I thought you would age, and I would not. Like all those I have met before. Towns I’ve seen change and generations that have gone from children to men as I’ve traveled. I was scared to know you.” As he spoke he slid his hand behind the other man’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I’m sorry, I should have spoken to you.” 

“I love you, you big oaf. I would love to know more of you. You don’t need to appease me in such a way.” Jaskier kissed Geralt once more and pulled away, a grin on his face as the two of them began their familiar morning routine.

**Author's Note:**

> I am new to writing these characters. Please let me know if anything needs to change. Please leave comments! Sorry for any OOCness. Let me know if you want more!


End file.
